


The Bower in the Boughs

by Geist



Category: Wakfu
Genre: Ball Fondling, Body Stocking, Breasts, Cum On Skin, Cunnilingus, Drinking, Ear play, Ex Sex, F/M, Fondling, Friends With Benefits, Kissing, Laughter, Masturbation, Masturbation Through Clothes, Open Relationships, Orgasm, Past Relationship(s), Pre-Cum, Premature Ejaculation, Romantic Friendship, Sex, Sleeping Together, Stripping, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Wine, handjob, tight clothes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-05
Updated: 2014-11-05
Packaged: 2018-02-24 06:28:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2571530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Geist/pseuds/Geist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been a long time since Evangelyne and Prince Armand were lovers. But there might still be keeping an arrow in her quiver for him, and he a few green shoots of love for her. On a visit to the Sadida Kingdom, he invites her to a midnight rendezvous in his chambers. It's lucky that her new boyfriend isn't jealous about things like that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Bower in the Boughs

Midnight, and the appointed hour. Evangelyne walked down a hallway of living wood and greenery, past statues of famous Sadidas sculpted from knotted saplings and vines. She approached a huge pair of arched double doors, framed by tree trunks and surmounted by a window covered in translucent foliage through which shone a verdant light. She knocked. 

"Come in," came the answer. The door swung open at Evangelyne's touch, and folded itself shut after she stepped through. She took a second to compose herself. Sadida royal rooms always awed her. Most rooms in the palace were impressive, but Armand's bedchamber was far beyond that. Here, the statues flanking the walls loomed so high that their heads were almost lost in the boughs that formed the cavernous ceiling. Here, the light came from magnificent chandeliers of woven leaves filled with colonies of fireflies. 

Surrounded by this grandeur, Evangelyne almost didn’t see Armand. He was standing over by the opening to one of the balconies that hung from the outer walls of his room, silhouetted against the night sky. He called her name, and beckoned her over. 

"Evangelyne," he said. "Welcome."

She nodded to him, and made a small, awkward curtsey. “Your Highness. Thank you for inviting me this evening.”

“So formal, Eva?”

“Sorry, Prince Armand. I thought since I’ve been away for so long, I should at least call you by your proper title.”

“Appreciated, but unnecessary,” said Armand, smiling through the neatly groomed thickets of green hair that covered his entire face. “Come. I have wine. We can toast your return.”

Evangelyne followed him out onto the balcony, where he offered her a seat at a little table, on which stood a carafe of red wine and two glasses. She sat and stared out over the vast canopy of the Sadida Kingdom. It was dark, for the most part. Here and there homely lights glimmered among the trees, and the laughter of merrymakers wending their ways home from the inns rose up and pierced the silence. The only real illumination came from the moon and the stars twinkling against the pure black backdrop of the sky.

Armand broke in to her reverie. “To homecomings,” he said, and raised his glass. Evangelyne reflexively grabbed hers, noting that he’d filled it while she’d been distracted.

“To homecomings,” she responded in kind, and took a sip. “You’re forgetting I’m not a Sadida, though.”

“After all the kindness and loyalty you’ve show my sister and the kingdom - and me, of course - there’ll always be a place for you here.”

“That’s sweet, Armand. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

They drank, and Armand asked her how she found the wine. She took another sip, swilled it in her mouth and let the flavour permeate her palette. “Delicious,” was her verdict. “Your tastes have certainly improved. II remember the first time the King let you plan a banquet-" 

Armand covered his face. "Sweet Sadida, I'm never going to live that one down, am I?" 

"-and you bought twenty barrels of that stuff from that Enutrof merchant."

"I was seventeen!"

"And...and," Evangelyne had to stifle her laughter, nearly failing when Armand giggled behind his hand. "All the guests looked like they were drinking vinegar! Amalia couldn't stop laughing for days." 

That did it. Evangelyne broke down into hysterical chuckles, and Armand followed, letting his, big, booming basso profundo voice join hers. Once they’d recovered, Armand said:

“Amalia needs very little excuse to laugh at me.”

“Poor Armand,” said Evangelyne. “Mocked by his little sister.”

“And now by my ex-girlfriend. You know, I think we still have the rest of that wine stored down in the roots. I could fetch some.”

Evangelyne clutched her glass and took a hasty sip. “This is fine. No need to be mean.”

They chatted some more, about Evangelyne’s adventures with her friends, about matters in the the Sadida Kingdom. But behind their talk lurked an unspoken question, and presently, after the wine had relaxed her and a brief silence turned much less so and became impossible to ignore, Evangelyne asked it.

“Armand,” she said, “this is nice. But really, why did you invite me here tongiht? We could have done this any time. Why now?”

Armand shrugged. “Honestly? I’d hoped we could spend the night together as we once did.”

Evangelyne was far less shocked than she thought she’d have been. She’d been half expecting him to say something along those lines. If she was honest with herself, she’d been hoping he’d say it, just so she could set matters straight.

“I like you a lot,” she said. “I loved you a lot, too. But I’m with Tristepin now. I don’t think it’d be appropriate.”

"I know, I know. Sir Percedal is a very lucky man. But that doesn't mean we can't...enjoy each others' company. As friends. I know how much pleasure you take in my body."

Evangelyne couldn't deny that. Tristepin had his charms, undoubtedly, and she found him as handsome as Armand. But Armand had qualities all his own, ones that Eva had been sorely missing. Tristepin's strength came from his wiry sinews and whiplike tendons. Armand wore his in his barrel chest, in each bulging muscle rippling beneath his deep brown skin. He was as solid and implacable as a mighty oak or mahogany, and when he wanted to be, as warm and welcoming as one.

"I want to," she said, slowly and deliberately, "it's just..." 

"I know something about Iops," said Armand. "They are not as stupid as people say." 

Evangelyne giggled. "As much as I love him, Percy doesn't do much to disprove the stereotype." 

"Regardless," Armand continued, waving a hand, "there is a wisdom about them. They live hard lives, usually. They take their pleasures where they can. And they make sure those pleasures are simple ones. Fighting, food and fucking, no?"

"That certainly sums him up."

"And they do not begrudge others those pleasures. Sir Percedal knows you are here tonight, does he not?"

"Of course. I told him where I was going."

"And he didn't seem jealous? Even though he knows we were once lovers?"

Evangelyne thought for a moment. "No. Not a bit." 

"Because he loves you enough not to be. He knows you love him, and that mere physical pleasure is not enough to change that. And I suspect he told you as much."

She gaped. "How - yes! He kissed me, and said 'I won't mind if you spend the night. Just think of me.'" 

"As I thought."

"Huh. When did you get so perceptive?"

"I am a prince. You have to be a little perceptive if you want to run a country one day. Plus, you taught me a lot." He smiled at her. "Back to my original question. Shall we share ourselves as we once did?" 

Evangelyne smiled back. "You've got a smooth tongue, Prince. I'm yours, then. For the night." 

Armand bowed his head, and said "And I yours." 

They drank the dregs of their wine and vacated the balcony. Armand drew the curtains across the arch and led Evangelyne to his bower. It was a gorgeous piece of work, festooned with flowers like living gems, and enclosed all around by delicate hanging vines. The memories of many happy nights spent there came rushing back to Eva as they approached. 

Armand wrapped Evangelyne in his arms and pulled her in for a kiss. She had to tiptoe and he had to crouch low for it to work, but they managed it. Their lips sealed, their tongues entwined, and they joined in an embrace as intimate as any they’d had when they were in love. They parted, panting, then fell on one another like ravenous boowolves.

Armand's kilt was the first thing to go. Evangelyne reached around his sides to unfasten it and let it fall to his ankles. Beneath he wore a simple loincloth, and Evangelyne managed to undo one of its ties before he pushed her onto the bed. She fell back, laughing, her legs waving in the air as she tried to regain her balance. Armand seized one of her boots and tugged it off, unveiling the contours of her shapely thigh and calf, wrapped from top to toe in the black material of her body stocking. Off came the other boot, and Evangelyne offered him her glove. He pulled it off, and caressed her hand. 

"No callouses," he said. "Strange for an archer." 

"That's what the gloves are for. Cra think you should shoot straight even with them on."

"And when you take them off?"

"Then we never miss."

"I'm glad to see you forgot to bring your bow, then."

Evangelyne held out her other glove, and Armand peeled it off. His loincloth was sagging to one side now, and she stared at it, willing it to fall away and reveal the thing that she knew so well and yet was longing to see again. She reached for the cloth. Armand closed his fingers around her wrist. 

"Patience," he said, a deep, seductive rumble in his voice. Evangelyne nodded, leaned forward and let him open the hidden clasp at the base of her neck that kept her stocking secure. It came loose, and he rolled it down, over her shoulders. She pulled her arms out of the sleeves and helped him take it down further, exposing her cleavage. 

"Sure you want to go any further?" Evangelyne asked, teasingly. "Your eyes might pop out."

"I'll take that risk," said Armand, and yanked down the front of her stocking. 

Evangelyne's breasts fell free, in all their pert, rounded glory. They hung high on her chest and rose up into pink pointed nipples, ringed with puffy areolae that faded into the rest of her skin. The instant Armand clapped eyes on them, he had to touch them.

"Oh Eva," he said, palming one, squeezing it. "You're as beautiful as I remember."

"You mean my tits are as beautiful as you remember," Evangelyne said, but she smiled and guided his free hand to the one he wasn't holding. He sank his fingers into her flesh, kneading, massaging, moulding it under his firm grip. He took her nipples between thumb and forefinger, pinched and rolled them until Evangelyne arched her back and threw back her head, practically purring under his touch.

Armand went to undress Evangelyne the rest of the way, but she stopped him. His erection was very visible now, large and hard enough to lift his loincloth. She took hold off it and rubbed, feeling it throb, feeling its engorged veins and ridges even through the thick material. A droplet of precum wicked its way through the cloth, spreading out into a dark, surprisingly big stain. Evangelyne couldn't wait any longer. She pulled at the loincloth's last remaining tie, undid it and unravelled it. She whipped it away and gazed at her prize.

Armand's cock was gorgeous: long, fat, covered in the fine network of those veins she’d felt. It was swollen beyond the ability of his foreskin to stretch, and the tip peeked out, startlingly pink against its dark surroundings. It was already slimy-sticky, and as Evangelyne teased back his sheath, exposing the rest of his cockhead, another milky dribble of precum leaked out. She ran her thumb over it, spreading it out over his skin, drawing a groan from him as his newly exposed, over-sensitive nerves sang and scintillated.

“Someone’s eager,” Eva said, playing with his slit while, with her other hand, she slowly pumped his shaft.

Armand had to suppress another moan. “This is what you do to me, Eva.”

She cupped his balls, and imagined that she could feel the heft and the heat of his cum churning within. 

"Let's relieve some of that tension," she said, taking hold of his cock with both hands. She tightened her grip, pistoned up and down it, then again, faster. Gazing up into his eyes the whole while, she kept going, watching expressions of delight and doubt flicker across his face. He gasped. 

"Ahh, remember..."

"Hmm?" She returned one hand to his cockhead and polished it with her palm. With her other hand, she started a gentle twisting motion, rolling his prick within its loose skin. 

"Eva, you know..."

"Shhh."

Armand's knees started to tremble, and he screwed up his face, hair crinkling with the motion of his hidden brows and forehead. His mouth moved silently, as though he was counting gobballs. Evangelyne moved her hand back from his cockhead, and sped the other up, waiting for the inevitable. 

It came quickly, and so did Armand. Eva's hands had worked their irresistible spell. A rush of pleasure burst from his cock, raced up through him and hammered at his mind, while a hot pulse wracked his cock. His cum spurted from him in thick, glutinous ropes, splattering over Evangelyne's outstretched hand, splashing onto her fingers to form glistening webs between them.

As Eva released his cock and licked her palm, tasting her reward, Armand cleared his throat. He sounded quite ashamed, and she could tell he was blushing under his beard.

"Evangelyne, you knew I was quick to...to umm..."

She sighed, and wiped off the rest of his seed on her stocking, heedless of the sticky white smear it left. "What did I always tell you?" 

"That I last long enough when it counts." The memory of her half-amused, half-chiding voice rang in his head as he said it. "But now you're with another man." 

"For the record, Pinpin is quick to shoot his first quiver, too. So don't worry about it."

"Still, I must return the favour."

Without warning, he launched himself onto his bed, sending a shrieking Eva sprawling. He hauled her up into his arms, pulling her into his lap, where he smothered her in kisses. 

"Aaargh, what are you doing, Iop-brain!"

"Repaying the favour," he said. His lips brushed her pointed earlobe, and her protests suddenly turned quavery and unsure. "Ahh, Cra ears are still as sensitive as ever." 

"Not...fair," Evangelyne whined, but she leaned into him all the same. He kissed the tip of her ear and flicked his tongue over it, while pinching its soft, fleshy lower part and rubbing it between his fingers. Eva squeaked. Armand smiled. 

"One day I'll find out whether you can come just from this," he said. For now, though, he slid his hand over her breast, squeezing briefly, then down her stomach, down to grope at her secret and supple parts. Her body stocking was thicker there, to avoid the obvious problem with sheer, skintight clothes, but her juices soaked through almost the instant he touched her.

Armand wormed a finger into Evangelyne's cleft, parting her lower lips through her clothes. She clamped her hand over his and made as though to pull him away, but he bit down - just lightly - on her ear. She yelped, shuddered, and left him to his work. A minute or two more of musical moans trickling into his ears, another of her squirming against him, and he was rock hard once more, desperate to move things on. 

"Eva, I want all - mmm - I want to see the rest of you." He stood, balancing on the bed's soft surface, and lifted her by her arm. Steadying her with a hand on her waist, he pulled down her body stocking the rest of the way. It peeled off her hips and off her crotch, coming away with strands of her wetness adhering to it. He kneeled, taking it down her legs and feet until finally, gloriously, she stood completely naked above him.

Her puffy pink pussy was right in front of him, topped with a thatch of golden curls and so wet it was dripping. Armand did what any red-blooded Sadida would have done, and buried his face in her muff, tongue out and mouth open to receive her nectar. A few laps had Evangelyne leaning over him, quivering, one hand on his shoulder, the other twined between his dreadlocks. He looked up at her, his beard covered in droplets of her juice.

“You taste like the sap of the Ceverom.”

“Like sticky wood?” Evangelyne said, between gasps.

“Like the idea of the taste, then,” replied Armand, and returned to licking. He drove his tongue between her slit and lashed it up and down, spreading her lips further and further apart, exposing every inch of her to his relentless mouth. He puckered his lips around her opening and speared her with his tongue, sending it slithering into her as deep as it could go and swirling it around her insides. 

"Oh, Cra!" Evangelyne cried. "Armand, fuck!" 

"Good?" he said, once he'd managed to extricate himself from between her thighs. 

"No," she said, then shook her head in muzzy confusion. "Yes, but I mean I want to fuck."

"Ah. It would be my pleasure." 

"Mine too, I hope." She pulled away from him and laid herself down, stretched out full length with her arms out behind her head. She wanted Armand to see and touch and taste any part of her he wanted. He dropped to hands and knees and covered her, gazing down at her face in adoration. And as she looked back, he saw love in her deep green eyes. It wasn't the blazing, romantic, passionate love they'd once had for each other. It was desire, and affection, and lust. It was nothing he knew the name for, but he was glad it was there. 

More carnally, his cock hovered over her pussy in great anticipation, as hard as it had ever been, ruddy, twitching and ready to be plunged into somewhere tight and hot. Armand inclined his head to Evangelyne, and she nodded back with her lips parted and her eyes full of mischievous sparkle. That was all he needed to lower himself to her, press his cockhead to her entrance and, in one great heave, thrust inside her.

Evangelyne looked down the length of herself as Armand pushed his way in, fascinated, as she always was, by her body’s capability to accommodate something that big. Her tunnel swallowed him to the very hilt, and she felt the deep, delicious ache within: the sign of her tissues stretching around their new playmate. He went to pull back, and she squeezed down for a moment, rooting him, holding him immobile. She chuckled at the look of consternation that passed over her face. The last time they’d made love, she hadn’t quite been able to pull off that trick. She let him go, and parted her legs a little wider, inviting him to screw her in earnest.

Armand was not to be outdone. He’d indulged in a number of trysts since Eva and he had split, and he’d used every one of them to hone his abilities. Now he brought them all home to her, every trick he'd learned, every sensual skill he'd practiced with the ladies of the court. Everything counted: angle, rhythm, even the way he blew on her ears or kissed the hollow of her neck. He watched her face as he thrust, noting which positions made her contort it into a mask of bliss. He listened for her screams, and not least he took care to enhance his own pleasure, seeking out the spots that set his own self shivering. 

And Eva fucked back as enthusiastically as he fucked her. She bucked upwards against him, shoulder blades digging into the fragrant, heather-stuffed mattress. Her hands roved across his body, teasing his nipples, squeezing his arse, feeling the muscles in his buttocks tense and flex with each of his strokes. Her body was as taut as her bow and as singular in its purpose. She was a vessel for pure, buoyant bliss, and it filled her to the point where she flung her arms and legs around Armand, hands scrabbling at his sweating back, her nails leaving their deep red marks in his skin. 

"Faster, you bwork!" she screamed. "Harder! Tristepin can fuck better when he's asleep!"

“Oh, really?” said Armand, a growl in his voice. “Can he do this?”

He grabbed Evangelyne’s arms, threw them down and pinned her wrists. He reared up, and she moved with him, keeping her legs wrapped tight around his waist. In this new position her bore down and hammered into her with every ounce of force he could muster. She screamed: one long exultant peal of sheer ecstasy, and once Armand had gotten over the distraction of her bouncing tits, she was able to gaze up at him, and he down at her. He took in her eyes, growing more unfocused by the second, and her red, panting mouth, from which all her words had been stolen. She was close, and he spoke to her, urging her on. 

"That's it, Eva," he grunted, between strokes. "That's it, my little tofu. Come for me." And then, almost to himself: "Sweet Sadida you feel good." 

He was close too. Each stroke made the veins and vessels in his cock throb, meshed together in a hot net that drew tighter and tighter around him. His balls had drawn themselves up to him, hard and nearly painful with the fresh loads of cum swirling within them. It was only an effort of extreme will that kept him from letting go and pumping his Eva full of seed. The sweat was soaking through his beard, dripping down his chin, but he had to see her break through her barrier first. He had to...

There she went. Evangelyne screamed louder than Armand had ever heard her, so high and hearty that she burned through all her air and dissolved into a fit of joyous, choking sobs. She convulsed as though she'd jabbed herself with one of her own thunder arrows. Her hands clenched and unclenched, scrabbling at Armand's wrists as the rest of her body rolled and heaved. A moment of this frantic, frenzied activity later, with one last squeaky scream Evangelyne went limp and silent. Her head drooped onto the mattress, a very satisfied smile crossing her face, and she unknotted her legs and let them fall flat too. 

Armand was very glad of the latter. His own climax hit hard and fast - faster than he was prepared for, at any rate. He had just enough time to drag his cock from Evangelyne's cunt, which clung to it, reluctant to see it go. Then his vision swirled, and he felt the liquid sensation of his cum surging through his cock. With a moan that was nearly a roar, he spurted his first volley across Eva's stomach, leaving a thick splash that trailed from her mound to her breasts. His next bursts were no less copious, even despite his earlier orgasm at her hand. He covered her belly in a white glaze of semen, two streams, three, a fourth, even a fifth, though by that point it was somewhat meagre. At last the contractions pulsing along his prick ceased, and one last shining liquid pearl dripped from its slit. 

His member drooping, his body trembling, his mind and soul exhilarated and exhausted, Armand fell to the bed beside Evangelyne. She turned to him and gave him a lazy, deeply satisfied smile. Absently, she trailed her fingers through Armand's cum, coming away with her tips covered in it. So rich and thick, it seemed almost a shame to spill it. She remembered the times he’d let her shoot it in her: that wet, warm feeling of fullness. Perhaps next time. She sucked her fingertips clean, murmuring at the taste, and said:

"You still make love as beautifully as ever."

"You still scream as loud," Armand said, and reached out to stroke her hair. "I hope I'm not permanently deafened."

She laughed, and after a few minutes of peaceful silence, Armand asked:

"Will you tell Tristepin about this?" 

"Of course," she said. "Every bit. It'll make him competitive. I like it when he's competitive." She took on a dreamy expression, and murmured "Imagine the two..." 

"Pardon?"

"Ahh, nothing."

They'd drawn closer during their chat, and wrapped their arms around each other, not caring that they were both sweaty and sticky and smelling more than a little of the musk of sex. Armand felt his eyelids growing heavy: warm and contented, the night's excitement and exertion was finally catching up with him. 

"I fear the main event is over," he said. "Will you stay 'til morning?" 

"The main event, Armand," said Evangelyne, "was being here with you. So yes, of course I will." 

They kissed, a light, casual peck on the lips, as between friends. Armand threw a blanket over himself and Eva, and together, naked, in the cooling heat of their love, they slept until birdsong woke them the next morning.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed it! All credit goes to the commissioner, a chap who goes by B. He runs the fantastic [The Naughty World of 12](http://thenaughtyworldof12.tumblr.com/), a Wakfu smut blog full of his various commissions.


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